


All The Right Junk In All The Right Places

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:06:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4111762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: When Blaine is having a bit of a crisis, Kurt shows him just how much he loves him - every little bit of him. Title comes from All About That Bass by Meghan Trainor.</p><p>Warnings: low self-esteem, body image issues, body worship, barebacking,  mild food kink/weight kink/stuffing, riding….yeah, I think that covers everything. </p><p>Originally posted on Tumblr March 17th 2015.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The Right Junk In All The Right Places

It's hard being the unattractive one in the relationship. Blaine knows this from experience.

Kurt is, well…. _Kurt_. He’s tall and lean, all pale skin and hard muscle and long limbs that stretch on forever. He has the bluest of blue eyes and the softest sweep of dark brown hair and sharply-defined cheekbones that emphasize his elfin qualities. But Blaine has seen Kurt bench-press weights in the gym a few blocks from the loft and he knows that he is the furthest thing from elfin that one person could possibly be.

Blaine, on the other hand, looked nothing like Kurt. He was too short and too dark, with cartoon-eyes and eyelashes like a girl’s, his body too soft and too _round_ , too out of shape to ever, ever compete with Kurt, who looked like he belonged on a runway most days and like he should be in catalog ads for sleepwear the rest of the time. 

Seeing himself and Kurt side by side in the mirror as they get dressed together in the mornings, he finds himself thinking, _Who in their right mind would possibly think that he and I are a couple?_  

He does, however, keep his worries and insecurities to himself, allowing Kurt to kiss him on the cheek before he rushes off for his first class and trying not to flinch too hard when he comes up to wrap his arms around him from behind when they meet up for lunch, thinking of the way that his body compares to Kurt’s in all the wrong ways. He’s sure that Kurt can feel the extra weight around his hips and stomach that he himself just doesn’t have, and what must he think of him? 

As a consequence, he feels worse and worse with each passing day, and it isn’t helped by the fact that the weather is getting warmer and that means that Kurt is wearing fewer layers and shorter sleeves and, _God_ , it’s like he’s _asking_  for people to openly stare at his broad chest and strong arms, and if Blaine were in his position he’d want people staring too, because he looks good - he looks more than good, he looks fantastic - but he also wishes it weren’t so obvious that he…doesn’t.

So he smiles and leans into Kurt’s kisses and tries to resist the urge to cover up and turn away when they undress for bed and the disparities between them are all the more pronounced for the fact they’re not wearing any clothes.

***

Friday night is date night, and while Blaine is usually vibrating with excitement and joy at getting to spend all evening undisturbed with Kurt, doing whatever they both feel like doing without having to worry about homework or shifts at the diner or their friends interrupting them to steal their food or use their bathroom, for once he’s not looking forward to it at all. Because he made the mistake of having _two_  - yes, two - cronuts at lunchtime and a whole crepe with chocolate sauce and three different kinds of fruit as a mid-afternoon snack and now he feels fat and ugly and the zipper on his plum-colored pants is too tight and Kurt will surely notice the way his stomach, never perfectly flat, protrudes over the waistband.

At the time, the food had looked and tasted delicious. Now he wasn’t so sure it had been worth it.

Kurt knocks on the door at precisely 7:30pm carrying bags of aromatic take-out and looking, well…like Kurt. He’d come straight from the diner and changed in the tiny staff bathrooms, but Blaine would never have known it; dressed in a crisp, light blue shirt and mahogany pants, he’s never looked so good. Blaine, on the other hand, has never felt worse.

“Hey!” Kurt is cheerful and vibrant as he swoops in to kiss Blaine on the cheek, his hand lingering on his waist as he leans in just a little too long for Blaine to be comfortable right now, but he goes along with it because it’s stupid and he’s being silly and why should he bother Kurt with his personal crisis? Why ruin date night by blurting out everything he’s been keeping in for the past few weeks when he can enjoy the food that Kurt has brought them and later, curl up on the couch together and watch a movie and maybe even make out a little?

“Hey, Kurt,” Blaine replies as Kurt pulls away, admires him up and down. “You look great, as always.”

Kurt pretends to blush and preen. “Well, I try. Shall we eat? I’m starving. I haven’t had a decent break all day so the only thing I’ve eaten is a day-old bagel that I had to share with Santana because there was only one, and I had to practically arm-wrestle her for my half because she was going to eat it all herself.” As he relates the saga to Blaine, he’s fetching plates and cutlery, setting out glasses and napkins. Blaine watches with jealousy the way the muscles in his legs shift under the fabric of his pants, the stretch of his shirt across his broad shoulders, the pink flush high on his cheeks that indicates he’s happy to be here, with Blaine. 

They sit down to eat five minutes later, and the food _is_  delicious, but Blaine is too self-conscious of exactly how much he’s eaten today to really enjoy it. Instead, he concentrates on Kurt, the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles particularly widely, the way his face looks in profile, the way his hair bounces slightly when he moves but never falls out of place. 

In a burst of sudden affection, he reaches out and takes Kurt’s free hand across the table, feeling the pads of his fingers and his warm palm, and it grounds him, keeps his thoughts from wandering as he reaches for another eggroll, though he deliberately chooses the smallest one. Kurt squeezes his fingers gently in response, and a slow smile spreads across his face although the niggling voice in the back of his mind remains, telling him that he doesn’t deserve Kurt.

When Kurt turns and brings out a whole strawberry and chocolate cheesecake, that niggling voice is silenced as Blaine’s mouth waters, and it must have shown on his face because Kurt laughs and says, “Still hungry?”

“There’s always room for dessert,” Blaine replies, and Kurt nods his agreement. 

“Couch?”

“I’m right behind you.”

Kurt grabs a couple forks and they sit, the cheesecake on a plate between them, Kurt’s legs tucked up under him. Blaine mirrors his position, and he wonders if there is a way to discreetly undo his zipper a little because although he would rather like to stay here and eat cheesecake while watching Kurt eat cheesecake, it’s slightly uncomfortable to sit like this, especially with a very full stomach.

“Something wrong?” Kurt pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth, his brows crinkled slightly in the middle in that way of his when he’s adorably confused. 

“No, not at all,” Blaine lies. “Just watching you.”

“Creep,” Kurt teases, smiling. He finishes the mouthful of cheesecake and reaches for another at the same time Blaine does; their forks clash over the plate, and Kurt starts laughing, trying to fight Blaine’s fork away so that he can get the next bite for himself.

Kurt wins their little battle and relishes his victory forkful, unable to keep the cheeky grin off his face as he eats. Blaine loves him like this, impish and playful, and it almost makes him forget that just hours ago he was burning with jealousy as he compared Kurt’s lean, trim body with his own. 

When Kurt excuses himself to go to the bathroom, Blaine takes the opportunity to undo his zipper and almost groans out loud at the relief when the waistband of his pants doesn’t cut into his stomach any more. In reward, he takes another bite of cheesecake, feeling comfortable enough to eat just that little bit more now that Kurt isn’t sitting directly across from him. He knows it’s stupid; he knows it shouldn’t bother him how much he eats in front of Kurt, but he still feels better when he’s eating alone, because then there isn’t another pair of eyes on him, watching his every mouthful.

Then Kurt comes back from the bathroom and Blaine drops his fork into his lap, spilling cheesecake crumbs onto the couch cushions.

Kurt has swapped his formal shirt and pants for a pair of purple boxers and an old black t-shirt. The cut of the sleeves emphasizes the definition in his upper arms, the swell of the muscles underneath his pale skin arresting Blaine’s attention for longer than is probably necessary as he sits back down and picks up his fork again. Blaine’s gaze travels downwards, over the flat plane of his stomach to his hips and strong thighs, where the material of his boxers has ridden up slightly to expose the dusting of pale brown hair there. 

Blaine puts his fork down onto the almost-empty plate. He’s not hungry any more; he doesn’t know why he ate so much in the first place. 

Kurt stops eating, too. “Okay, I _know_  something’s up with you. Spill." 

"S'nothing,” Blaine murmurs, pulling his legs out from underneath him and stretching them out, pressing his bare toes against the floor until it hurts. “Being stupid, that’s all.”

Kurt puts the plate down on the floor, scoots up close to Blaine and takes both his hands, his skin warm and soft, but rough over the knuckles and palms. “It’s not stupid. Tell me.”

_ I don’t feel good around you _ , he wants to say. 

_ You make me feel inadequate because I’m so out of shape. _

_ I can’t keep up with you.  _

_ You’re so gorgeous and attractive and desirable and I’m none of those things. _

_ You look like a runway model and I can’t stop eating. _

What he does end up saying is, “I don’t feel like I can measure up to you any more.”

And then, “You’re - you’re gorgeous, Kurt, you look so good and so - so in shape and fit and healthy and I’m - I’m not. I’m not as tall as you or as defined as you and I’ll always be _just this side_ of pudgy because I can never seem to shift the last bit of weight and you’re strong and confident and brave and sometimes - sometimes I feel like I’m not good enough. For you. For - anyone, really. Sometimes. But especially recently.”

He finishes his little speech and Kurt is staring at him, concern written all over his face. His face his stern, the expression in his eyes serious. A few tears make their escape down the sides of Blaine’s face, and he hastily wipes them away, his face and neck flushing with embarrassment, both at his miniature rant and the fact that he’s crying. 

Then Kurt takes his tear-damp face in both his hands and turns it in his direction, wiping away stray tears with his thumbs gently, so gently that if Blaine wasn’t watching him do it he wouldn’t have known that Kurt was touching him at all. 

“Don’t say those things about yourself,” Kurt says seriously, looking Blaine right in the eyes. “Ever. Okay? You are handsome and talented and compassionate, and I love you. Okay? I love you. And I’m going to show you exactly how much I love you and exactly how much I do not give a crap what you look like. Because you’re _mine_ , Blaine. All mine. I wouldn’t change a thing about you, and even if I wanted to? I wouldn’t. Do you believe me?”

Blaine gives a watery smile, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I believe you. God, I feel stupid now,” he says, wringing his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry for losing it like that.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Kurt replies softly, and leans forward to press his face into the curve of Blaine’s neck before placing a warm, open-mouthed kiss on the exposed skin of his throat, sucking obscenely in a way that will surely leave a mark in the morning. It catches Blaine by surprise and his whole body shivers in pleasure as Kurt’s lips and teeth and tongue leave their impressions on his skin, slow and deliberate. He’s taking all the time in the world on this one single spot, and Blaine balls his hands into fists in his lap as the pressure of Kurt’s mouth forces him backwards, pressed flat to the back of the couch, and he lets out a tiny groan.

When he’s done with his ministrations on Blaine’s throat, Kurt kisses a hot, damp path up to his jawline, nipping at the skin as he goes, pausing to bite down lightly on Blaine’s earlobe and drawing a gasp from his fiance when he does. He continues down the hard line of Blaine’s jaw until he finds his lips, and this time Blaine rises to meet him halfway, sliding their mouths together and kissing fast and hungrily, too little coordination and too much tongue but somehow perfect, sending a pleasant warmth shooting through Blaine’s body. 

Kurt’s hands are on the waistband of his pants before Blaine realizes what he’s doing, humming in appreciation when he finds his pants already open and pushing his hand inside, cupping his palm around the swell of Blaine’s cock in his underwear, already starting to stiffen. 

“Love you much,” Kurt pants, kissing down Blaine’s chin and the front of his throat to his Adam’s apple, sucking on the skin there with wet smacking sounds before pulling back and reaching for the hem of Blaine’s sweater - and that’s when Blaine stops, sitting rigid on the couch and trying to look anywhere but directly at Kurt.

“What?” Kurt asks, blue eyes wide and lips flushed a deep pink. 

Blaine squirms, feeling suddenly self-conscious again. “I kind of had a lot to eat tonight….”

“And? So what? You’re gorgeous,” Kurt insists, “a little extra weight because of a big meal doesn’t change that.”

The praise helps, and Blaine feels his body relaxing once more, becoming warm and loose beneath Kurt, but the insecurity remains, and he tries to push it aside as Kurt carefully, gracefully straddles him right there on the couch, his thighs bracketing his hips. From this angle, Blaine can see how Kurt’s own cock is hard and getting harder, pressed right up against the seam of his boxers. Blaine’s mouth waters.

And then Kurt presses himself up against Blaine’s chest and kisses him, drawing his lips between his, and Blaine is sure that everything that was circling round and round in his head at that moment flew right out of it, the only thing important to him being the weight of Kurt in his lap and the warmth of his mouth on his and his hands flat against the planes of his chest, his fingers not-so-subtly grazing over his nipples through his sweater and making the sensitive skin there tingle with tiny pulses of pleasure. 

Kurt’s weight on his full stomach should be uncomfortable, should make him recoil from his touch, but it doesn’t. In fact, it’s the exact opposite, the pressure strangely arousing, sending his blood surging south towards his cock, which is starting to fatten where it lies next to Kurt’s. He can feel the head of Kurt’s cock damp against his underwear, and that only increases his arousal. When Kurt deepens the kiss to pull his tongue into his mouth, Blaine can’t stop himself from moaning at how good it all feels.

Kurt hums appreciatively, giggling in that teasing way of his that’s just coy enough to drive Blaine insane. He pecks Blaine on the lips before pulling away, running the tip of his tongue over red lips, his eyes wild and hair standing every which way. He looks deliciously fuckable and Blaine bites down hard on his tongue to keep from moaning again. 

“I’m going to show you just how handsome and attractive I find you,” Kurt declares, as if it’s some kind of announcement. “And I’m going to ride you right here on this couch until you come, and I’m going to kiss every inch of your body as I do it to _prove_  to you that you are far from being the person you think you are and that you’re so much more than all of these worries and insecurities you have. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

“Yes,” Blaine all but squeaks, his throat dry and heart racing with anticipation. He’s fully hard now, and he’s eager for Kurt to make good on his intentions. He wants to feel good, and he wants Kurt to be the one to do it.

Grabbing the hem of Blaine’s sweater, Kurt says, “Arms up!”. Blaine complies, letting Kurt pull his sweater off his body so that his torso is bare. The cool air in the loft makes his skin prickle and his nipples stiffen; he can feel the heat radiating from Kurt’s body so much more palpably now that his skin is bare. It doesn’t seem fair that Kurt’s fully dressed when he’s halfway naked already, but he can’t find it in him to complain when Kurt begins to pepper Blaine’s bare chest with quick, hot kisses that barely touch the skin but leave a blazing heat in their wake, making Blaine shiver and tremble as Kurt makes his way down his chest. 

“I love that you’re so soft here,” Kurt murmurs against the skin of his food-bloated stomach, nipping lightly at the goosebumps that erupt when his breath hits the skin, “perfect for me to do this.” He nuzzles his stomach with his nose, cheek pressed to Blaine’s hip, before putting his mouth back to the skin and biting just hard enough to leave red indentations behind; Blaine yelps, both at the sharp shock of the bite and at how good it feels. It’s going to leave a bruise, but he doesn’t care. He just wants Kurt to _keep going,_ and tells him so.

“Mmm, Kurt,” Blaine mumbles, “so good. Don’t stop. Feels - feels good.”

“Like this?” Kurt asks, looking up at Blaine from under long sooty eyelashes, eyes wide and blue and dark with arousal, and he doesn’t give Blaine the opportunity to answer before he’s pressing his mouth back to his skin and biting down, leaving another set of marks that’ll definitely be sore in the morning but send jolts of pleasure through Blaine’s body. He’s getting restless, shifting his hips and wriggling, trying to get Kurt to pay attention to the one place that needs it most

Right before he reaches his cock, however, Kurt swoops back up to kiss him hard on the lips, and then he’s rummaging behind a cushion for something, never breaking eye contact with Blaine. They’re both panting, Kurt from exertion and Blaine from sheer want, and moments later he finds what he needs; a small bottle of lube that had, apparently, been hidden in the couch at some point and had yet to be discovered by any of their roommates. Or maybe it was one of their roommates that put it there.

Still, Kurt wastes no time, pulling off his underwear before settling back over Blaine’s lap. He’s naked from the waist down, Blaine is naked from the waist up, and they’re both ridiculously, painfully hard. The thin material of his underwear isn’t enough; he needs to feel the heat of Kurt’s cock against his without any barriers between them. 

Kurt momentarily forgets about the lube so that he can shove Blaine’s pants and underwear down to his knees, constricting his movement but leaving him the space he needs to do what he had promised Blaine he would. Now that Blaine is almost completely naked, Kurt takes a good long look at him, his beautiful, gorgeous fiance, from the bright warmth of his hazel eyes to his small, peaked nipples, soft stomach and narrow hips, to the strong, muscular thighs currently underneath him, supporting his weight. 

He _is_  gorgeous. He doesn’t understand how Blaine could think otherwise. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try his very best to make Blaine feel special in spite of his insecurities, because he _is_  special. And maybe Kurt doesn’t tell him that as often as he could or should, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. 

He grabs the lube, then swats Blaine’s hand away when he tries to reach for it. “Uh-uh. This is about _me_  making _you_  feel good, so no touching unless I say so, okay?”

Blaine bites his lip and wriggles underneath Kurt, trying not to whine in protest. Instead, he resigns himself to watching as Kurt squirts some of the lube onto his fingers and reaches behind himself to work himself open, spreading his legs a little to allow him better access. The angle is awkward, and his wrist cramps up quickly, but two fingers and he’s moaning, clamping his knees around Blaine’s hips to stop himself from falling backwards as his body rocks with the pleasure. It’s cruel, sure, to tease Blaine like this, making him watch as he pleasures himself in this way, but it’s all part of Kurt’s plan. 

“Kurt,” Blaine begs, the muscles in his thighs twitching spasmodically as he tries to contain his arousal, “Kurt, hurry up. Stop teasing.”

Kurt laughs - _laughs_  - and moans high in his throat, his breath coming in harsh gasps, but doesn’t answer. Eventually, though, deems himself suitably ready for Blaine’s cock, and pulls his fingers away. He rubs them, sticky with lube, over one of Blaine’s nipples and then moves to the second, drawing them tighter and making Blaine slump against the couch, boneless with pleasure. But Kurt is far from done; there’s a long way to go yet before he’s finished with him.

He lifts himself up just enough for him to line himself up with Blaine’s cock, using his hand to guide the swollen head to his lubed-up, open hole, and then drops down onto the length of him until his ass cheeks connect with Blaine’s thighs.

Blaine lets his head fall back against the couch and he moans, long and low and delicious, as he adjusts to the feel of Kurt around him. His body twitches and jerks, desperate for the heat of Kurt’s body and the sweet pleasure of release, but somehow he knows that Kurt won’t make it that easy.

Adjusting his position in Blaine’s lap, Kurt bends forward to press a sweet kiss to his lips and cheek and jaw, before starting to rock his hips gently, a barely-there motion that Blaine wouldn’t even have noticed had he not been able to see the circular swiveling of Kurt’s hips. The sensation is maddening, almost but not quite tangible, enough to make Blaine’s body flare up with warmth but not so much that the pleasure will crest too quickly and leave them both spent far too soon.

Kurt mouths at the skin of Blaine’s throat, which is damp with the faint sheen of sweat, and rocks faster, lifting his hips ever so slightly and pushing down on each rotation, forcing their bodies together. He moans against Blaine’s throat and bites down on the juncture where the column of his neck meets his shoulder, tasting sweat and something unique to Blaine, something he _definitely_ wouldn’t mind tasting more of.

“ _Ugh_ , Kurt,” Blaine moans, gripping Kurt’s bare hips to guide his movements as he lifts up and rocks down, faster, harder, harder, _harder._ The couch is squeaking slightly with the force of their bodies but it’s lost in the sound of Blaine moaning and Kurt’s muffled grunting where his face is pressed to Blaine’s chest. Kurt’s thighs are stuck to his with sweat, Kurt’s cock is leaking between them and dripping pre-come over both their stomachs, and everything smells like sweat and sex and the lingering aroma of cheesecake.

Blaine isn’t going to last. He tells Kurt as much, the words coming out disjointed and garbled. “ _Ugh_  - oh God, Kurt - this isn’t going to - _ugh_  - last, I need to - _oh God_  - come.”

“Do you believe me now?” Kurt asks, his breath coming in short pants, flicking the tip of his tongue across one of Blaine’s nipples, making him gasp and jerk, “Do you believe me that I find you attractive? That you _are_  attractive?”

“Y-yes,” Blaine rasps in response, his hands slipping on Kurt’s hips, his whole body strung out and aching with the need to come. He bears his throat for Kurt to place his mouth there and suck on the sweaty, sticky skin as he thrusts down again, again, again, hard enough that it should hurt but it doesn’t, it really doesn’t, and all Blaine can feel is Kurt clenching around his cock and his breath in his ear and his sweaty hands on his shoulders, gripping tightly, holding on for dear life as he works to push both of them toward what what they both really crave. 

“ _God_ ,” Kurt pants, “God, Blaine, I love you. I’m sorry you don’t feel like you don’t measure up sometimes but _I love you._  I love you. You’re amazing and incredible and I love you so, so much.”

Blaine has barely a chance to mumble an “I love you, too,” because the heat and the smell of sweat and the sound of Kurt’s voice telling him what he needs to hear - what he always needs to hear - is too much and he starts to come, his body shaking with it, his thighs trembling from supporting Kurt’s weight as he lets go and spills himself inside his fiance. 

Kurt buries his face in the crook of Blaine’s neck and comes, too, groaning against his skin, covering them both in sticky come. He feels completely boneless, entirely spent, and can feel his body collapsing on top of Blaine’s as he comes down from the euphoria of sex and Blaine and how much he loves him, even if he might not say it as often as he should. 

“Love you,” Kurt murmurs when he finds his voice again. 

“Love you too, Kurt,” is Blaine’s muffled reply. He kisses the top of Kurt’s head, his sweaty, messy hair ticking his nose, and rests his hand on Kurt’s bare back, holding him against his chest. 

Maybe he won’t ever have the perfect body. But maybe he doesn’t have to. Because Kurt seems to love it, and him, just the way it is. And that’s the most important thing.


End file.
